‘Dear Mrs. Weston, I saw you in the dining room today at lunch. I believe that I have something to show you that you’d be extremely interested in ...eeing. Would you please be gracious enough to join me for a cup of afternoon tea tomorrow afternoon at four? I pray you will accept my offer and look forward to your visit. Sincerely, Imelda Weston Clarke’“On a separate piece of paper she left me her address. I was intrigued to say the least. Who was this woman? What could she have to show me that. He had no idea what it was, some sort of meat enriched slop but it tasted good. His stomach grumbled at its rapid refilling. Riddick peered down his nose into the bowl vainly hoping for more, but there wasn’t. All too quickly, it was all gone. The man stood back from him, inspecting him, admiring him maybe. He hadn’t said a word to Riddick, which puzzled him. Riddick wondered about questioning him, he wanted details of where he was and why he was being held but he thought the bit would go back. On the way home, my friend apologized franticly for being so wrong about his age. I told her it was no big deal but disappointing because I felt instant chemistry. She then tried to convince me that age wasn’t an issue. She attempted to convince me that he looked older than me if that was my concern and no one would bat an eye. She knows that public image is really important to me and that I worry about what others think so much that it affects who I am. That said, I was pretty down about it… I. Slutty words from one so young you think? Mmm! Yes maybe but I’d had a good teacher. In reply he just gave a little smile and began those final thrusts that I knew were going to release his thick juice inside me. Then I felt it. I felt his cock give a jerk and then it swelled up inside me and suddenly the flood began. The heat of it pumping into me made me moan as one jet after another pumped inside me. Then with one final push that pushed him as deep inside me as he could the final pulse of.